


Blame It on the Booze

by orphan_account



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Drugged Sex, Enemas, M/M, Object Insertion, Other, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 05:54:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He's fucked up and fucked out, the mix of pleasure and alcohol pumping through his veins. And he aches, everywhere.





	Blame It on the Booze

"Shh, quiet. I know you need more," John says.

Mitch drags a hand over his face, groaning weakly. He's fucked up and fucked out, the mix of pleasure and alcohol pumping through his veins. And he aches, everywhere.

He jerks at the shock of cold glass against the wet hole. Mitch’s hole is soft and warm and well-used and the neck of the bottle sinks in so easy and Mitch keens.

"Jesus, Mitchy," John laughs. "You like that a lot, huh?"

Throat working dryly, Mitch tries to get out the words John wants to hear. The cool ridges at the top push over his hole, up inside him, spread him open wide, wider. It's too much. He can't take it. There's already too much in him.

Mitch grates out, "John," and John should know what that means, John should know.

But John doesn’t want to hear it. Says, "I know, sweetheart. You need more, huh?"

Dizzy, Mitch thinks no, oh god, no, and when John tips the beer bottle all the way up, lets the fizzy, lukewarm liquid mix with John's come inside him, he comes.

"Good," John soothes, stroking over his back, his side, down to roll the heel of one hand against Mitch's full belly. Reflexively, Mitch grunts and clenches up, trembling with the effort of holding on so tightly. 

John leans over his back, slick hard cock sliding between the cheeks of his ass. One slow kiss to the knob of Mitch's spine and John says, "I wonder what it feels like inside you now." 

He traces his fingers over Mitch’s taint, and back farther to circle his stretched hole where it bulges against the outward drag of the bottle.

"I think I’m going to find out."


End file.
